Every year on the Thursday before Thanksgiving, the performing choir my youngest son is a member of goes caroling at an outdoor shopping area. There are other musicians and performers, as well as sleigh rides (after a fashion), cookies, and apple cider.
This was my son’s fourth (and as it happens, final) year participating in this event, but this fact did not register with me in a visceral way until the last carol was sung, and we were on our way home.
Then it struck me that sometimes we know when something is done, sometimes we don’t know that something is done even though it is, and sometimes we realize that whatever it is will never be done, but that we are finished, and we must move on.
This last option is what I faced after I had woven in the ends of the belated birthday rug I have been working on.
I found myself fiddling with one thing and then another, and I soon realized that I could fiddle with it indefinitely. So, I snipped the last end, got my camera, and photographed it:
While I now know that there are somethings I would do differently if I had the chance, I don’t.
It’s time to move to the next thing; I need to take the lessons I learned and move forward, and in this case, moving forward meant that I needed join the the second quadrant of the cat runner that I had laid out two days ago.
After a late morning and early afternoon spent joining the squares, I once again have 90 renegade ends to be woven in and a super portable project that easily fits into a bag that I can take with me anywhere. Here is view of the back of the two quarters I have done so far:
And here is a view of the front of the same two quarters:
While learning to approach my crochet mindfully is a bit like any exercise program (requiring practice, patience, and diligence), it also seems to have benefits, and I am curious to see where tomorrow’s journey takes me.